the first
was a backseat freestyle
half-Catholic, half-alcoholic
rampaged my underage
with whiskey and wallet,
a secret
only until
the second
alexander the great
undefeated in battle
he knew my worth
but not its weight
the third
disguised as hymn
soaked our nest in sin
led me in a prayer every night
baptizing my body with his white
the fourth
****** me like corpse
gold cross beat collarbone
and hands like Caesar
overthrew me
into
the fifth
traced the contours
of my wrists
he was a righteous king
until
“this will feel good”
robbed me of
my womanhood
the sixth
looked at me
like I was the sky over Judah
vowed to be loyal
crowned me royal
then stormed my capital
at dusk
the seventh
rough and
in Hebrew tongue
“this is the first time
i’ve done this sober
in awhile”
the eighth
graced me
with misogynist faith
made me kneel
until my knees
were just bruises
on his floorboards
the ninth
warrior’d his way
into my walls
a Trojan prince
who could’ve cared
less about the outcome
of a broken one
these are
the nine good men
who i let hero-storm
my temple with their chivalry
inside-out my worth
into bible verse
crucified by ignorant white
i actually believed by some light or reason
that a man might cleanse me of my demons
i tried to love each of them
like i’d never known broken
tried to marry my wounds
into Magdalene
moaning a beggar’s cry:
treat me like new, brand new!
untouched, like virtue
us, we, come together are purity!
but they had all been in search of their sin
from the beginning
nine worthies
who made the rules
only so they could know where to
break them
all religious
all deemed / worthy
praised / King
self-proclaimed / God
Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 8:55 PM UTC
the first
was a backseat freestyle
half-Catholic, half-alcoholic
rampaged my underage
with whiskey and wallet,
a secret
only until
the second
alexander the great
undefeated in battle
he knew my worth
but not its weight
the third
disguised as hymn
soaked our nest in sin
led me in a prayer every night
baptizing my body with his white
the fourth
****** me like corpse
gold cross beat collarbone
and hands like Caesar
overthrew me
into
the fifth
traced the contours
of my wrists
he was a righteous king
until
“this will feel good”
robbed me of
my womanhood
the sixth
looked at me
like I was the sky over Judah
vowed to be loyal
crowned me royal
then stormed my capital
at dusk
the seventh
rough and
in Hebrew tongue
“this is the first time
i’ve done this sober
in awhile”
the eighth
graced me
with misogynist faith
made me kneel
until my knees
were just bruises
on his floorboards
the ninth
warrior’d his way
into my walls
a Trojan prince
who could’ve cared
less about the outcome
of a broken one
these are
the nine good men
who i let hero-storm
my temple with their chivalry
inside-out my worth
into bible verse
crucified by ignorant white
i actually believed by some light or reason
that a man might cleanse me of my demons
i tried to love each of them
like i’d never known broken
tried to marry my wounds
into Magdalene
moaning a beggar’s cry:
treat me like new, brand new!
untouched, like virtue
us, we, come together are purity!
but they had all been in search of their sin
from the beginning
nine worthies
who made the rules
only so they could know where to
break them
all religious
all deemed / worthy
praised / King
self-proclaimed / God
This poem is inspired by The Nine Worthies, a group of history's "heroes" who were thought to encompass all characteristics of the perfectly chivalrous warrior. They were made up of three good Jews, three good Christians, and three good Pagans. The commentary I make in this poem on religion and its assumed state of purity is putting a spin on the values portrayed by these men to criticize the men I've had experiences with in my own life.
